


Times of the Past: The Moon's Serenade

by DemaciasBrokenWing



Category: League of Legends
Genre: F/M, I HAD to tag the KataGaren ship even though I LOATHE it, Its implied here so I had no choice, Short mild angst, fits right in your pocket
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-11
Updated: 2017-04-11
Packaged: 2018-10-17 17:00:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 650
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10598304
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DemaciasBrokenWing/pseuds/DemaciasBrokenWing
Summary: Super short drabble written one night. A random occurrence that happens years before the Fall of Demacia. Garen is alone with his thoughts during a Demacian festival.





	

A cold night. A clear night. 

Garen’s eyes were focused on the full moon above. He could see the surrounding area of Demacia so clearly from his peripherals atop of the inner wall. Behind and below him, the sounds of cheering and celebrating. His silver and gold plated armor reflected the pale moonlight dimly as he shifted to look behind him. In the marketplace, Demacians danced in the streets, playing a varying amount of hand-instruments as Sona masterfully played on her Ethwal. Everyone had a smile on their face. He could see Jarvan enjoying a large tankard of brew, and Xin Zhao sitting beside him finding enough spirit to loosen up. It was rare to see, but when he smiled, Garen knew everything was okay.

It was the Moon’s Serenade Festival, where the people of Demacia would gather to bring in the coming of the winter season with dancing, feasting, and games. The first full moon that signaled the coming of colder days was always the brightest, and it brought the best out of the people of Demacia. It looked like a wonderful time…

…Yet there he stood, atop of the wall, keeping watch.

Ensuring this festival would go unscathed by the outside forces who hated these moments of peace.

A low breath passed his lips in a sigh as he looked back out into the pale luminescence of the landscape, seeing a visible steam waft around his head as he did so. His hand curled around the flagpole to his right. Above him, he could hear the banner of his people flapping in the wind. He glanced up just in time to see the symbol of Demacia, The Wing of Virtue, angled down at him, as though it were an eye giving him a quick glimpse before whipping back upward. His eyes looked back down to what they were supposed to be doing: His job. The one thing he knew he was good at.

 _Sir, you can forego one night of watch. I’ll take your shift. Surely, you have someone you wish to celebrate the night with._ Garen recalled an hour ago when a lower-ranked solider offered to take his place at the wall for the night. Of course, Garen refused.

 _“No, corporal. Go spend time with your wife. Perhaps you two should go home early for an after-party at your chambers this night!”_ The soldier looked flustered, but genuinely appreciated the edict. They had been trying for a child to call their own for so long. He hoped they would have one, soon.

Garen’s hand gripped tight around the flagpole. Everyone around him seemed to have… had someone else for accompaniment. He would enjoy a drink with the prince and Xin Zhao on occasion, but he could see that the Exemplar and Seneschal had closer ties to each other since they worked together, and much more often. 

He knew Katarina would be there for him should he ever call for her… But there was always a seed of doubt within him… She would never fully give him his trust whenever they met. She seemed interested in only one thing during their meetings, sometimes…

A cheer from the crowd below. Garen fought the urge to look back. Either Sona had begun one of her more popular pieces of work… Or Xin Zhao had stood to dance with his fervor to it.

He closed his eyes slowly as he made a soft prayer:

_If my solitude is the price for their happiness, then let it remain so. I will easily forego my satisfaction for their harmony… Even if it means displacing myself from them._

Another cheer. Another round of drinks. Another dance. Another song.

Another sigh. Another glance at the lonely moon.

A small smile found its way to Garen’s lips.

“Looks like we are of the same spirit, eh, friend?”

The following silence was the only answer he needed.


End file.
